Pieces
by MockJayPhoenix12
Summary: Short prequel to 'Laughlines.' Shortly after Arthur's return, Merlin realizes how broken he is. One-shot, non-slash.


2-5-13

Pieces

Prequel to 'Laughlines'

A/N- Merlin's first person, present tense POV. First (so far) in my "Laughlines" series.

For anyone who's wondering- I am finishing up "Se Forhtung" at the present time, and the sequel to "Secrets and Lies" is the next project on my agenda!

Anyway, hope you all like this virtual drabble! Please tell me your thoughts either way! ; )

I could explain only the barest details to Arthur before he passed out again. Now, as always, I wait for him. It isn't like the wait I've spent over these past centuries- he's right here with me, after all. I watch him as he sleeps, chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Barely moving at all really, but enough to remind me that he is alive.

I recognized him when I saw him- who else would have been washed onto the shore of the lake but Arthur?- but it took me a moment's staring to recall his every feature which I once knew so well. I'd not forgotten him, I assure myself- because I know that I _did_ recognize him, in spite of his centuries long absence. And the thought that I could have laid eyes on him just anywhere without knowing exactly who he was is too horrible to bear.

His eyelids flutter. He'll wake soon. Perched as I am on the edge of the bed in which he lies, I reach down easily, smoothing his blonde fringe clear of his eyes.

"Arthur," I whisper. No sooner do I realize that I'll not be able to speak another word soon. My tightening throat forbids it. He looks up at the ceiling first, blinks, and tilts his head in my direction. It's in this moment that I'm truly overwhelmed by how much I've missed him.

"Merlin," he says. He's smiling at me. I wonder if he remembers our final conversations- not the very last, when we said all but goodbye to each other, but when he questioned me about my being a sorcerer and having never told him of it. To see his face now, I think that it isn't possible. But I remember how honestly he forgave me for the lie- how he finally admitted understanding of my reasons.

He remembers, I realize- but he's not thinking of those last moments together. He thinks of all that we've faced side by side, and of many pledges of loyalty. He probably imagines how lonely I've been, wandering this world for so long without friend or family, so that I could be with him now.

Whatever does go through his head, he now reaches out to me, clutching my forearm with a strength characteristic of him. "You haven't changed at all."

I long ago stopped crediting my opinions as truly sane or reasonable, but I _know_ this isn't true. I've changed so much since Arthur knew me. It won't be long before he recognizes it himself.

"You look awfully tired though," he assures me, weariness in his own voice.

_Yeah. I don't really sleep anymore._ I nod my head in reply, swallowing with difficulty. "You look perfect," I choke out before I can stop myself.

Arthur has the good grace not to appear amused, but his smile has turned pitying. I rub the hand on my arm, as he looks me over more thoroughly. "You're as skinny as you ever were," he remarks, tracing his fingers over my knuckle. "But it's better than being _fat_, I suppose."

That's when I start to cry. The familiarity of our conversation is something I've been deprived of for so long, and I'm not sure how I ever bore living without it. One harsh sob is followed by another, and I lose the will to even try to stop myself. I don't think I could now, anyway. I haven't cried in quite some time- I've been able to almost forget what it feels like- but I've waited so long for this. There would be no use pretending that it hasn't deeply affected me.

Arthur gently tries to shush my cries, unaware of how useless it is. One of his hands goes to my face and I hold it there firmly, as if he may be taken from me at any moment. But this isn't just another of those dreams.

"It's okay." He whispers it a few times, and while I don't fully agree, it is comforting to hear. "I'm here now," he tells me. "I'm here."

I want to respond, to let him know I'm not entirely reduced to an uncontrollably sobbing child, but three words come tumbling out of my mouth, and they're anything but supportive of this idea. "I'm a mess."

"No," Arthur says sadly, stroking my cheek and dampening his thumb with my tears. "You're not a-"

"Yes, yes," I hurry to interrupt him, nodding my head. "I'm-m-mess; I don't even know wh-wh-who I am anymore." Apart from the unhealthiness of my solitude, there's a prominent reason for this. "I've needed you, Arthur. I'm in-incomplete without y-you."

Arthur seems to understand my tearful stuttering because he looks horrified at what I've said. "Merlin- it's I who need _you_," he corrects me. "You've never lacked anything that you found with me."

"'S not t-true," I stammer out, and swallow to steady my next words. "You gave me a purpose," I say. About now I realize that I've been rubbing my hand subconsciously, frantically over his, but I don't stop, in spite of how unstable it makes me appear.

_No. How unstable I _am_. The action only reveals the truth._

Arthur doesn't say anything else, but I see that he's looking into my eyes when I'm briefly able to clear them. He must see that what I tell him is true, that I've been as good as a traveler without a compass or a warrior without a cause in his absence. There's understanding in his expression, as well as pity. I don't want to be the object of this latter emotion, but it is proof of how much he cares for me. It's been such a long time since I've been the cause of any strong, honest emotion.

He's shaking his head now. "I'm sorry. Merlin, I'm so s-"

"Don't," I stop him, also shaking my head. "J-just h-hold me."

I don't allow him much of a choice. I've curled up beside him almost before I've finished speaking, but I don't think anyone could blame me for my abruptness. The last time I was so close to someone was… well, I've never been closer to anyone than to Arthur. And such physical closeness has never occurred between us without the presence of some catastrophe, potential or otherwise. Our current circumstance is no small thing, of course, but neither of us is in danger. The only reason I have for gluing myself to him like this is for the comfort and reassurance that comes with such intimacy. No purpose in the action- at least, none that Arthur will see.

Yet I feel his arms come around me, not halfway, but whole-heartedly. It's possible that he's glad to have me so close, and I let my own arms tighten about him. "Thank you," he whispers- whether for this or for waiting for him, it doesn't matter. His breath is warm against my face, but these words bring on a shudder by reminding me of our last conversation.

I cling tighter to him.

"I'm sorry," he continues. "I wish you'd never been so alone, Merlin. I wish I could have been with you all along." I want him to stop talking, because I don't know how to reply- or if I even can reply- but I can't bring myself to interrupt him. Not only because I went without hearing it for far too long, but because he sounds so uniquely caring. "I know I can't begin to understand what it was like for you… waiting for me… for as _long_ as you did, Merlin. 'Thank you' can't even begin to cover everything that I owe you, but if there's anything you ever need from me-"

Without looking at him or moving my head, I reach up, covering his lips with my fingers to cease their movement. Because this is the happiest I've ever felt. Arthur's here with me- actually here- _finally_, and he's willing to let me break down like this. He wants to help me by talking to me, but right now it's enough to have him here. His presence is all I need to feel whole again.

"I missed you," I tell him. My simple words can only poorly represent the strength of the feeling that has built inside of me for more than a thousand years. Because I never cared about anyone as much as I do Arthur, either now, or ever before. Despite all the time that's passed, that remains as strong as ever- and to have him back is the fulfillment of what feels like every dream I've ever entertained.

All at once, I realize that I'm no longer so aimless. My purpose has returned to me; it's again my duty to protect Arthur at all costs. This is a burden, of course- a heavy, familiar burden, one that no sane man could ever desire to be accountable for.

It makes me smile to know that it's mine again.


End file.
